


You're In A Car With A Beautiful Boy

by TaliskerMortem



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Impala Fic, M/M, broken!dean, human!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 22:10:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaliskerMortem/pseuds/TaliskerMortem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're in a car with a beautiful boy,<br/>and he won't tell you that he loves you,<br/>but he loves you. </p><p>- Richard Siken</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're In A Car With A Beautiful Boy

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fic so I hope you enjoy it. It was inspired by a quote/poem by Richard Siken which I found whilst watching Sterek videos (even though I've never watched Teen Wolf) which is in italics. I made myself kind of sad writing it but hey. Constructive criticism is always welcome. Enjoy.

** Castiel **

_You're in a car with a beautiful boy,_

 

The endless November drizzle caresses the windscreen, sorrowful rivulets tattooing the glass. No words are spoken as mile after mile is left behind in the spray. You are accustomed to the silence; you’ve driven for days with barely a word. Yet somehow this silence feels different. It’s stifling. You can barely breath. But you can’t break it. That would go against those many unspoken rules. His eyes are fixed on the road. They never glance sideways at your profile the way yours do his. From this angle you can scarcely see them. But you know each and ever fleck of gold that lurks in the murky greenness. His eyes are beautiful. He is beautiful.

 

_and he won't tell you that he loves you,_

 

You can feel the aching in your heart. He never says a word. He never acknowledges your whispered declarations or the words you relay with your stares. He stares back sometimes. Less frequently now. But he used to fix those beautiful eyes on yours and never look away. Now he shifts his gaze away from yours but not before you read the blame in those beautiful eyes. Self blame. He thinks he is poison. And he is… of a sort. He is an infection in your lungs; the drum beat of your human heart. He is toxic and you feel like you’re drowning. But he still doesn’t speak. He doesn’t tell you what you need to hear.

 

_but he loves you._

 

It kills you inside that he never says it. You know it is true. You’ve seen his soul. You know his heart. But the way he ignores it is killing you. It’s like he doesn’t want it. Doesn’t want to feel it. And a part of you knows he thinks he doesn’t deserve it. And that’s why he pretends it’s not there. But that doesn’t make the pain any less. You still want to hear it. But for now, just knowing will have to be enough.

 

_And you feel like you've done something terrible,_

 

The guilt is constant. It is a part of you. You feel like you’ve done something unforgivable every time he looks away. It’s not you fault. You know that. But a part of it is. You betrayed him. And every betrayal leaves its mark. He is lost. And you don’t know how to bring him home and it hurts. Like nothing before. You fell from heaven for him. You fought your way back to his side. And he’s not there. Not really. His mind is far away. He is just an empty shell and you cannot let the blame go. Because while not all of it is your fault, a part of it is. And that is enough for the guilt to cling to and nest itself in your chest. You feel sick to your stomach, like you will never be whole again.

 

_like robbed a liquor store,_

 

The bottle in his lap is almost empty.  He doesn’t eat much any more. The lid is lost somewhere two states back and his hand is curled familiarly around the neck. He takes a swing as you pass through the black stretch between illuminated road signs. He shouldn’t be driving but his body is accustomed to it now. His blood more alcohol than not. You remember the times you resorted to the same treatment. But no matter how much you drank, the emptiness of his eyes never stopped haunting you. You drank an entire liquor store once. Back before you fell. You sometimes wish you could go back to that time. It was a simpler time then. You barely knew him then.

 

_or swallowed pills,_

The pills came later. In the hospital with the memories. With the hallucinations. With the punishment. You did it for him though. You did it to apologies. The pain you caused him. You had to make it go away. You sacrificed yourself – your sanity – for him. And you would do it again. In a heart beat. You’ve tried pills since. But they can’t numb the aching in you chest. Nothing can block it out. You feel yourself breaking because of it.

 

_or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt,_

 

You know death. You’ve been there before. So when you say that even death would be preferable to this mindless existence you’re leading by his side… You know what you are talking about. He never speaks to anymore. Never looks you in the eye. You used to wonder what you were even doing here. Following him wherever he lead. Now you don’t even care. You’re living but your not alive. Not really.

 

_and you're tired._

 

The tiredness it the worse. It’s the kind of tired that cannot be cured by sleep. In fact, you sleep more now than you ever did before. But it doesn’t help. Nothing can help it. He sits there beside you and you know he feels it too: the never-ending longing for rest. Sometimes you just want to sleep forever.

 

-x-

****

** Dean **

_You're in a car with a beautiful boy,_

 

He sits beside you as you drive further into the night. You don’t have to looks at him to know he’s staring at you again. You don’t have to look at him to know what you would see in his unearthly blue eyes. It’s like dying all over again when you see him. He is so fragile now. So human. More human than you. But he is still beautiful. More so even. It makes the hollowness in your chest unbearable.

 

_and you're trying not to tell him that you love him,_

 

They are always resting on your tongue, pressing desperately against the back of your lips. Those words. The words you know he wants to hear but that you just cannot allow yourself to utter. Because he deserves more than you. He deserves the world. And you can’t give it to him. He’ll find a way to move on. But he can’t do it if he thinks there’s hope. And by God you can’t give him that. You can’t give him anything. Certainly not false hope. You’ve felt it before and you know the pain it causes. Worse that death. Because you’ve felt that too. So every time you almost say it, you choke down the words because they would only do more damage.

 

_and you're trying to choke down the feeling,_

 

You can feel it clawing up inside you. That feeling. It’s the only thing left living in the empty cavern of your crippled soul. It’s the only think keeping you here. And you are torn between destroying it… And clinging to it to stop yourself from drowning. It’s the only think keeping you alive. But it’s killing you too. It’s tearing holes into you heart and leaving wounds in your chest.

 

_and you're trembling,_

 

It rises up inside you. It senses you are weak. Too weak to stop it. You are shaking. The bottle in your lap slips from your fingers and falls to the floor between the pedals. The amber liquid spills out and you remember a time when you would’ve cared that it was staining your baby. You are trembling now. You have to pull over. Or you’ll kill him. The car comes to a shuddering halt by the roadside. And you think you’re going to be sick.

 

_but he reaches over and he touches you,_

 

His hand is on your shoulder. And it’s like a lifeline in a stormy sea. He buries his fingers in the musty leather. And you cling to it. It holds you steady. He is calling your name but you can’t hear him. You eyesight is tunneled onto the steering wheel. You breaths are coming short and fast. Like you’re running for your life. And perhaps you are. He is holding you now. His arms reaching around you and cradling you to his chest. And you sigh.

 

_like a prayer for which no words exist,_

 

Neither of you speaks. There are no words to be said. Apologies. Explanations. Nothing matters except his arms around you and his hushed voice in your ear. Telling you to breath. Telling you it will be okay. And even if you’re almost positive it won’t be, you let yourself believe him. Just for a moment. He tells you he is not going anywhere. And you know he’s not lying. Even if you wish he were. Because he deserves better. He will always deserve better. But his arms are wrapped around you and you remember what it feels like to be alive.

 

_and you feel your heart taking root in your body,_

 

And your heart is beginning to beat again. Not the dull pushing of blood around your lifeless body nor the frantic beating brought on by the panic you’d felt a few moments ago. This is a strong, steady beating. And it is spreading through your system. You turn you head towards his. His eyes are filled with fear. Fear that he is losing you. Yours latch onto his like a starving man to food. You tell him everything you couldn’t before through just one look. You see his fear melt to hesitancy. Uncertainty. Then he smiles. And you reach for him. And your lips ghost across his. And you feel like maybe there is something worth living for.

 

_like you've discovered something you didn't even have a name for._

Salvation.


End file.
